THE STARS RUN THEIR COURSE

d'Verse Poets Pub--https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

a beggar-king
at Burger King
asking for The Impossible

now I'm a SpongeBob diver
beneath the 12 mile reef

a broken lance
torn underpants
it undermines
all my carefully curated bravado

so many lifetimes

you think Bigfoot
is concerned about 
his carbon footprint?

and the case against
having anything
is that you've so much
to lose
(I'll send obligatory
condolences
or maybe congratulations)

but anytime you switch on
the radio
and Steely Dan
comes wafting
(like those Santa Ana winds)
you're ahead of the game

the bathroom down the hall
always has somebody in there
beneath the hand-scrawled sign
that says 
Please take a seat

you can
of course
always hang it out the window
unless it faces the street

let the stars run their course
it all makes sense 
in mysterious ways

one day your writings
will be all that's left of you

FADED HIPSTER

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub

The train leaves
the years recede
all your dolls 
are packed away

An old girlfriend
(collected abstract art--
an amazing piece) 
a beach hotel 
your last resort

Faded hipsters
will always dig
Steely Dan
but the world 
is a piano 
out of tune

To wit:
Inca
Oshichi
Monopoly
Nanashi No Gombe
Puff
Ra

And you hear the cries
of brooding lumberjacks
with axes to grind
drunkards and gluttons
groping and grabbing
until the bitter end
my friend

And you love 
the precision of 
numbers
the only things 
that will never leave you 
but merely accrue
until you're down
for the count

A hand reaches out
for something or
someone
grasping thin air
the room runs out of
oxygen
and the world
is a snuffed candle

Happy birthday!

JUST LOOK UP !

Poetry Potluck

One Shot Wednesday

Somewhere there's a girl for me

MAYBE hanging out in a TREE

one day I'll just look up

and THERE she'll be...

And she will not be Miss America,

though she may be dedicated to world peace--

and she doesn't care for fancy cars,

or closing down the bars,

and she will have no scars,

though there may be a small tattoo

that isn't readily visible...

And she will not be Miss America,

though she may have a bikini wax--

and she will be outrageous,

but not contagious,

and she will dig Steely Dan

and love me for who I am...

And she will not be Miss America,

though she may have some type of marginal talent--

like tying a cherry stem into a knot with her tongue,

or spitting her gum farther than anyone.

And she will be hip and sassy

but not too classy

and her eyes will be a trap door you fall into

coming face to face with the Mad Hatter.

And she will say things like: "Did you ever find a penny

that came out of your dog's butt?"

(Hold onto that--it's a lucky one!)

And she will not be Miss America,

though she may be at her best being under dressed--

and she will be all natural up front

for even a little sag is better than the drag

of learning "first hand" that her statistics are inflated.

And she will eat finger food with a fork,

and fork food with her fingers,

how the scent of her lingers...

And she will not whack off

all of her hair on a whim,

thinking that she will look like Halle Berry--

when in truth, like most,

she would more closely resemble Mister Spock--

what a shock!

Oh, the girl for me is somewhere

maybe lost at sea...

how will she ever find me?

She's looking for a poet,

but doesn't know it--

a man with a kind heart,

kind of an old fart,

looking for a new start...

And she will not be Miss America,

but she will pray and she will weep for America--

now I lay me down to sleep in America,

where beauty's only skin deep in America,

and magazine smiles can't conceal

the bewilderment that we feel

at having tossed off one King George

only to be saddled with another--

then lo and behold...we got ourselves a BROTHER!

And the girl for me will see through all the lies, and alibis

for she will be wise, but won't show it,

and she will be beautiful, but won't know it,

and she's out there somewhere looking for a poet

who thinks he may have already blown it--for good.

Oh, the girl for me is somewhere....

maybe hanging out in a tree--

one day I'll just look up

and there she'll be...

Yeah, I think THAT will be the girl for me.